To have his son back in his life, my dad is willing to be sober.
It’s a hell of a declaration, and I don’t even mind that he wasn’t willing to do that for me all these years. I just mull over the possibility that I may one day see the impossible. My dad without his whiskey.
61
2 years : 03 months
November
LILY CALLOWAY
I have been included into the boy club by accident. No one noticed me except Lo, but he’s not about to kick me out of my father’s den. This has to mean that my invisibility powers are blooming. Maybe my baby is magical. The thought almost makes the pregnancy not so bad.
“What are you wearing?” Lo asks his brother with a frown. Connor, Lo, and Sam dragged Ryke into the den the moment he parked his Ducati in my parent’s driveway, Daisy with him. The Sunday luncheon starts in thirty minutes, so I thought it was a success that he showed up on time or even at all, clearly putting effort into his relationship with my little sister. He accepted my dad’s invitation even after my mom had Ryke thrown in jail. This was my father’s version of waving a white flag.
Ryke making peace and putting the issue behind him actually eases a lot of tension. And I know he’s doing this to try to repair the bridge between Daisy and my parents, the one that’s been crumbling.
“It’s lunch,” Ryke says like they’re crazy. “I’m wearing a f**king shirt and pants.”
All of the other guys are dressed in button-downs and black slacks. “It’s formal,” Lo tells his brother. “I thought you realized that.”
Ryke glares at the ceiling and then checks his watch. “I don’t have time to go back.”
“You can switch with me,” Lo says, already unbuttoning his shirt. I sit on the armrest of the couch, watching my boyfriend shed his clothes. I cross my ankles, and Lo glances back at me knowingly. The corner of his lips rise.
Yes. I am very, very attracted to you. But my traitorous-self stops fawning over his defined muscles and sculpted chest. My smile fades. Lo frowns at me, but he’s distracted by his brother, who anxiously runs his hands through his hair. He really needs to stop messing with the strands. My parents don’t like the whole disheveled, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed look.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for wearing a regular T-shirt?” he asks Lo like what the f**k? Seemingly, there is a flaw in this plan.
But Sam clears it up. “He’s Loren Hale.” Yep, that about describes the difference nicely.
Ryke’s face hardens. He touches his chest. “And I’m Ryke Meadows. What the f**k are you getting at?”
Sam whistles. “You don’t know Greg Calloway that well, do you?”
Lo passes Ryke the shirt. “What Sammy is trying to say is that I’m going to get special treatment. You’re not.” He clarifies, “Dad raised me and he’s Greg’s best friend. Plus, I’m not dating the youngest Calloway girl.” Lo faces Sam Stokes, who stands rigid, a string of animosity between them. Faint but visible in their closed-off postures. “I got the best free pass while you had to jump through ten-thousand hoops. Poppy’s money must have meant so much to you.”
“No amount of money is worth the tests that Greg put me through,” Sam says, his back arched in defense. “If you don’t believe that I love Lily’s sister—”
“I’m just messing with you,” Lo says sharply.
Ryke holds the button-down, solidified to stone as he processes what this means. I have a good feeling that Ryke will be tested just like Sam. The question is: will he last to the very end or just give up on the idea? “And Connor got a free pass too?” he asks.
“I was trusted from the start,” Connor says, busy texting, only half in on this conversation. “Not shocking to anyone.” He grins.
“Maybe if I punched you, you’d be a little f**king shocked,” Ryke says.
“Only because you always talk about it but never actually do it,” Connor says. “What’s surprising is that I haven’t returned you to the pound. I prefer my animals with a bigger bite.”
Ryke flips him off.
I spring to my feet and sidle next to Lo, my arm curving around his bare waist. I feel his fingers brush the nape of my neck. Lily 1.0 would have turned this scenario into a very, very sexual fantasy. Lily 3.0 has snuffed most of them out, but I stand on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.
That felt good. Even better when Lo wears a genuinely happy smile.
My body warms. Maybe I can tell him today. After lunch. He seems to be in a much better place.
“I know Greg doesn’t like me, but I’m trying. Isn’t being here enough?” Ryke asks.
“No,” Sam says. “It’s a small start, but it’s definitely not enough. I spent years trying to gain his trust and his acceptance into the Calloway family. Since Jonathan is your dad, it shouldn’t take you as long, but no offense, you’re notorious for being with many women. I even questioned what you’re doing with Daisy.”
Ryke rolls his eyes, agitated, but has no reply. He takes off his dark green tee, and I train my eyes to stay on Loren Hale for a prolonged second.
“You have a tattoo?” Sam asks with a mixed expression like: you’re screwed, buddy and I feel sorry for you.
I pipe in, “Didn’t you watch Princesses of Philly?” During the show, Ryke spent many weeks filling in the tattoo along his shoulder and chest: a phoenix with some red and orange coloring. A black chain is tied around the ankles of the bird and extends along his ribcage, ending with an anchor by his hip. That anchor is in a naughty place, and he knows it.
Sam just realizes that I’ve crept into the room. Invisibility gone. “I never watched the show, no.”
Oh.
Ryke puts on Lo’s nice shirt and starts buttoning it. “So what if I have a tattoo?”
“Greg hates tattoos,” he says.
“That’s too bad,” Ryke says flatly, “because his daughter has one.”
Whaaa. “Which sister?” I ask.
Ryke gives me a look like I’m being dumb.
Oh. Right. Daisy.
Sam scratches the back of his head. “Word of advice, don’t mention it now, or really ever. He’ll think you’re a bad influence on her.”
“He already thinks that,” Ryke retorts. “Just say it: I’m f**ked.”
“Maybe you should fix your hair,” I suggest.
He lets out a frustrated growl and tries to comb his fingers through the thick, messy strands. He’s making it worse. “Stop looking at me with that face, Lily,” he retorts, more nervous than I’ve ever seen him.
“What face?”
“Your constipated face.”
I gape. “That is just mean.”
“That was pretty mean,” Lo says.
“It’s the f**king truth.”
I cross my arms. “You know what, I was going to help fix your hair, but I’m retracting my offer.” I raise my chin in confidence. Take that.
Connor finds a hole in my declaration. “You can’t retract an offer that was never stated.”
I look at Ryke. “Would you like me to fix your hair?” He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “I retract my offer. Ha!” I raise my fist to Lo, and he knuckle-bumps me. And then he kisses my temple. I got a kiss out of that. I try not to smile too hard.
“As fun as this is,” Sam says with his phone in hand, not sounding as amused as the rest of us, “we better head into the dining room. Poppy just texted me. Jonathan is here, and apparently Samantha’s not coming.”